


The Maker's Will

by hollyand



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Love Confessions, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 17:05:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18815254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyand/pseuds/hollyand
Summary: Being a mage was always hard for Bethany - but meeting Sebastian in the Chantry makes it easier.Written for the following prompt on Tumblr: Bethany/Sebastian, "You're safe here with me."





	The Maker's Will

Bethany only ever wanted to be normal.

But being a mage, in this world, meant you could never be normal. Being a mage, in this world, meant you would be hunted, forever on the run, never able to get too comfortable in one place or spend too much time with anyone out of fear that they would find out your secret. Being a mage meant that if you were not locked up in the Circle, you were forced to hide yourself and who you were and your hopes and dreams because magic meant you were a person to be feared, not trusted.  

It was with some relief, then, that Bethany was taken to the Circle in a much more gentle manner than she could have hoped. If she couldn’t be ‘normal’, then perhaps the best she could hope for was that she could be ‘normal for a mage’ – never having to worry about running and hiding ever again, never having to worry about how her family were affected by her magic ever again.

Never having to worry that she and her loved ones would not be safe.

The Chantry was sometimes where Bethany had sought refuge in Lothering, despite her father’s reasoning that they should go along to services if only to keep tabs on every templar stationed in their village. She enjoyed Sister Leliana’s stories, and she appreciated that Carver would always come along with her, silent, watchful; ostensibly to keep his twin company, but privately to protect her if the worst ever happened.

Carver would have made a good templar, if he were alive.

Kirkwall was very different from Lothering, and here she was not allowed to roam free; but Bethany was allowed more privileges than many of the mages in the Gallows – writing letters to her family, teaching the apprentices, even cordial relations with the templars who were designated to watch over her – and one of the privileges she most enjoyed was that of being allowed out of the Gallows (albeit with a templar escort) to attend services at the Chantry.

At first, Bethany had gone along simply to remember her twin, and practise her faith. But no sooner had she started attending with that intention than her eyes had been drawn by a Chantry brother, deep in prayer, with shining white armour and reddish-brown hair that complemented his deep brown skin; handsome features and a proud nose that delineated a noble heritage; and when he opened his eyes and lit the red candles at the altar, Bethany had been struck by how bright his bluish-green eyes were… until he turned his piercing gaze on _her_.

‘I know you,’ he had told her, in a soft Starkhaven brogue that made her melt inside like warm liquid caramel. ‘You’re one of the Hawke family, are you not? I cannot thank you and Hawke enough for the help you gave me in eliminating the Flint Company all those years ago.’

‘It was our pleasure,’ she had replied, staring right back into those striking blue eyes, and feeling as if her breath might have caught in her throat. ‘We were happy to help. And please, call me Bethany.’

‘Bethany,’ he had repeated in that rich burr of his, and she could feel herself melt again. ‘I’m delighted to properly make your acquaintance at last. I look forward to seeing you again. Soon.’

Perhaps it was not for a mage to hope for too much, or to think of much beyond her life in the Circle, but Bethany soon found she looked forward to her visits to the Chantry in hopes she could spy the handsome Brother there. Even if Bethany had given up on her dreams of being normal – of having a husband and family or even being whisked off her feet by a handsome, dashing prince like in the stories she loved reading while growing up – she would allow herself to enjoy the handsome prince-turned-priest at service. For everyone needed to have _some_ pleasures in life, no matter how forbidden; and this would be hers, and the templars need never know.

Sebastian greeted her with impeccable timing each time, and Bethany was secretly pleased to find that he was conveniently never busy whenever she was around. They exchanged polite small talk, he charmed her templar handlers, and even debated the finer points of faith with their party on occasion. Sometimes Bethany thought the way he looked at her was more than merely polite or friendly; but she had learned that as a mage, she should not hope for anything more from it.

But _oh_ , he made it so hard. His gaze penetrated her defences and made her weak at the knees, and it was all she could do to keep cool and composed whenever he spoke to her – or even when their eyes met across the Chantry. She wondered if he knew how much he tempted her, and wondered if he _should_ know, given that he was a chaste Chantry brother himself; cast out from his royal family, neither the heir nor the spare, trying to find a place for himself in this world where circumstances had denied him the life he would have wanted to live – just like herself.

His place was in the Chantry. Her place was in the Circle. But the Knight Commander made it harder each day for Bethany to support the Circle despite her firm belief in the Chantry and the Maker – and despite _his_ equally firm belief in the Chantry and the Maker, it was something she was surprised she was able to talk to him about: her struggle, being a mage, reconciling the teachings of Andraste with what she saw of the abuses of the templars in the Gallows every day.

‘I should not be talking about this,’ she once said to him, as they remained in the pews after service.

‘You know you can talk to me, Bethany. About anything.’

‘Do you ever question? Do you ever wonder–’ She broke off. ‘I shouldn’t be talking about this,’ she repeated. ‘Maker knows what the templars would do to me if they overheard.’

‘Don’t worry. You’re safe here with me.’

Bethany smiled at him then, and Sebastian smiled back, warm, caring, like the light of Andraste had shone through him in that moment. ‘You know,’ she said, lightly, ‘when you get like this, it’s very easy for a girl to believe anything. I can see why the Chantry keep you around.’

Sebastian laughed, a chuckle as rich yet soft as his voice. ‘If you believe in nothing but me, Bethany, I would not ask for anything else.’

Now it was Bethany’s turn to laugh. ‘ _Really_ , Sebastian,’ she teased. ‘As a Chantry Brother, shouldn’t you be encouraging me to believe in the Maker? Shouldn’t you give me a stern lecture to never doubt the Maker’s will?’

‘As a Chantry Brother,’ he replied, almost serious now, ‘you _are_ one of the reasons I believe in the Maker. You _are_ why I don’t doubt the Maker’s will.’

Bethany flushed; Sebastian himself went red and she wondered if he was not supposed to say that. ‘I–’ she started, but whatever she was about to say did not come out; it had suddenly got very warm in here, and for one wild moment she thought that might be perhaps why he himself was blushing. When she did eventually speak, she thought she could barely hear her own voice. ‘… _Maker_.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he started, softly, and he seemed taken aback by what he had said. ‘I shouldn’t have admitted that. I apologise.’

‘No need. I… I feel the same way. I – didn’t know.’

He looked away from her. ‘I – I think I need to pray. I will – need His guidance on this matter.’

She nodded. ‘I know. I understand. Believe me, I understand.’ A pause. ‘I guess that’s the end of us meeting in the Chantry.’

‘It doesn’t have to be.’ His gaze returned to hers. ‘We admire and respect each others’ abilities and faith. We enjoy each other’s conversations. That does not need to stop us talking. Unless you will it.’

‘I would like to carry on talking, at least,’ Bethany agreed. ‘Whatever comes… we should not doubt the will of the Maker, like you say.’

Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ he said, and Bethany found herself breathing a sigh of relief too; she did not know where this would lead, or if it would lead anywhere – the world was changing around them so fast, and Kirkwall sometimes felt like a powder keg that was ready to explode – but for now, she was happy to keep things as they were. ‘I hope to see you again in the Chantry–’ and here he gazed at her so intently and meaningfully that Bethany couldn’t fail to understand him, ‘ _soon_.’

**Author's Note:**

> Not one of my usual pairings, but what can I say, I love a good challenge!
> 
> Comments and kudos are most welcome - or come say hello at [hollyand-writes.tumblr.com](http://hollyand-writes.tumblr.com)!


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